


A Stolen Hour

by LuminousGloom



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Diary/Journal, Dirty Talk, Hogwarts Seventh Year, M/M, Marauders' Era, Quidditch, Romance, Sex, Veritaserum, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-18
Updated: 2015-12-18
Packaged: 2018-05-07 12:11:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5456045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuminousGloom/pseuds/LuminousGloom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: "Sirius talks dirty."</p><p>A very fruity account of the goings-on on one winter afternoon in seventh year.<br/>Written for R/S Small Gifts 2015, a gift for hastendown (aka Juul here on ao3).</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Stolen Hour

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Juul](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Juul/gifts).



Wrapped in his warmest woolly jumper and his thick winter coat, Sirius is right at the back of the stands, standing behind the empty last row of seats, smoking a furtive cigarette. The match is in full swing, green and yellow players swooping and soaring against a dark sky heavy with clouds. Various heating charms gently ripple the air above the crowd, there’s more snow predicted for later this afternoon. 

Hufflepuff are holding their own quite beautifully against Slytherin. It's their new Keeper, Sirius reckons, only young, but she's really turned things around for them. And the Chasers seem to have put the hours in, outfoxing their Slytherin counterparts at every turn. Of course, Slytherin have the advantage in their genius of a Seeker, though what exactly he's up to just now isn't entirely clear.

Sirius crushes his cigarette underfoot, not taking his eyes off the game. Until he is distracted by a muffled sound and a familiar cough. “Hey,” a soft voice says behind him, and an arm is slung around his waist.

“Hey yourself,” Sirius grins, surprised, tilting his head back. “What brings you here?”

“The map, of course.” Remus’ breath is warm against Sirius’ ear. “Thought I’d see how Hufflepuff are getting on. What are you doing all the way at the back?”

“Given up my seat, haven’t I.” Sirius points to the stand to their right, where most of the Gryffindor team occupy their usual two front rows, supposedly analysing the match. “Look.”

It takes a moment for Remus to spot James, and next to him, Lily Evans. “He’s never,” Remus gasps, obviously shocked and impressed. “How did that happen?”

Still grinning, Sirius shrugs. “Wonders will never cease. She seems to hate him slightly less today, I dunno? Maybe she’s finally realised he’s not all bad. I’ve promised I wouldn’t cramp his style. Or queer his pitch. So here I am.”

“Right.” Remus moves closer. “What’s the score?”

“Thirty - uh - nil,” Sirius is finding it hard to remain impassive what with Moony pressed up against his back like that. “To Hufflepuff.”

“Really!” Remus sounds impressed. “The new keeper? Blimey, isn’t she only a third year?” One of his hands makes its way into Sirius’ coat, tugging up his jumper and shirt.

“Yeah, she’s been doing some sterling work...” Sirius’ breath hitches as those cold fingers find skin and flatten against his abdomen. “Actually, I’m glad you've happened by,” he says airily, leaning back into his friend. His voice drops to a low growl. “Been thinking about you all day.” 

“Have you?” Remus says casually. “What sort of thing?” 

Sirius pauses for a moment. He is still pretending to be watching the match, eyes front, following the twists and swoops of the players, the thwack of the Bludgers and the thud of the Quaffle. That hand is slowly stroking his belly. “You know. You… not wearing anything.”

“Right,” Moony sounds like he is smiling. 

“Yes. In fact I've thought of little else,” Sirius says huskily. “Getting you naked in the Quidditch changing rooms. Sucking you off in the greenhouses.” In for a Knut, in for a Galleon, he thinks, and brazenly carries on. “Riding your gorgeous cock in the study hall. Fucking you in the library.”

“Bloody hell, Padfoot.” Remus’ voice is low, his breath uneven. His hand shakily trails lower still, hidden by Sirius’ coat it actually moves below the belt, deliberately skimming across his crotch. “Tell me more.” 

Even as he suppresses a small moan, Sirius can’t help smirking. Moony is getting breathlessly eager, and Sirius hasn’t even touched him yet. “It - it started in Arithmancy, this morning. You know how the mind wanders when you're bored… I was thinking about this match. And - about you. Your lips. Your tongue, on my cock, sucking my balls…”

Sirius’ words falter, he takes a deep breath. This is wildly exciting. They haven’t shared much of this sort of talk, definitely not in broad daylight, never in public! It feels brilliantly, dangerously reckless.  
Luckily the match is heating up, but anyone might casually glance ‘round. And now Moony’s hand is fully groping, cupping, squeezing what is becoming a substantial bulge in Sirius’ trousers.

“What else was I doing?” Remus asks, his voice rough. He’s got a firm grasp on Sirius’ cock through the fabric, slowly stroking up and down. 

“Then - uh,” Sirius gasps a little but does his best to stay calm, “I imagined you'd - start fingering me a bit. Still - licking, and sucking my cock. I'd - I’d be putty in your hands, the way I usually am…” Sirius lets out a long breath and closes his eyes.

Remus chuckles, still pumping Sirius’ cock slowly, almost languidly. Then he thrusts his hips, and Sirius feels him through their clothes, rock hard, sliding against his bum crack. This is too much.

“Moony,” he pants, trying to restrain the urge to buck his own hips wildly, “let’s take this elsewhere, can we?”

“You’ll miss the match.”

“The dormitory is _empty,_ ” Sirius insists.

“Yeah,” Remus whispers breathlessly. A warm kiss is pressed against Sirius’ neck, then Remus lets go of him completely.

Feeling suddenly cold, Sirius turns to face his boyfriend, shaking his head a bit to make his brain work. Moony smiles back at him, a happy, wicked sort of smile, but he seems a bit self-conscious, too.

“Let’s go,” Sirius indicates the back stairs. Brushing his fingers against Remus’ lower back he adds softly, “let’s go and fuck.”

Moony’s cheeks turn a bit pink as he grins and nods, and the two boys rapidly make their exit.

\---

Throwing open the door to their dormitory with an almighty crack, Sirius enters, alone. He charges in, scowling, impatient, frustrated. Bloody third years, forever causing trouble, blimming Moony, always on hand, always willing to bloody help. Let them sort themselves out for once, instead of encouraging them to run to a ruddy Prefect every five minutes!

He kicks a bedpost, picks up an old copy of Quidditch Weekly, then flings it to the floor. Finally, he decides to take off all his clothes and climbs into Moony’s bed. Sprawled out, naked, surely he’ll get Moony to instantly forget all about any Prefect business. He can’t wait for them to carry on exactly where they’ve left off. 

_Won’t be long,_ is what Moony said, _go on ahead, I’ll be there in a minute._ And here Sirius is missing out on an important match, he grumbles to himself as he slides under the covers. His knee bumps against a hard object - of course, always best to clear Remus’ bed of books before embarking on any other activities. Only this one, he discovers, isn’t any old book from the library. It's a notebook, quarter bound, with a scuffed, marbled cover. A diary.

Sirius opens it without thinking. Lined, cream paper, probably Muggle made. The entries are short, written in Moony’s fluid, relatively legible hand. There are some loose pages, some pencilled notes. Sirius doesn't mean to pry, though he's obviously curious. Once he starts reading he can't stop. 

Moony has noted down general observations, ideas for useful charms. Vague, blurry memories of the Forbidden Forest. Everything is carefully dated, some of the dates are marked with small symbols, recurring at intervals. Doesn't take a genius to work out what they must mean. Apparently Remus has been recording his moods, too, and his general well-being. On some days he must have been in a rush, just a few hastily scrawled lines. Some pages seem to be missing altogether. Others are stained and smudged. 

A small Muggle quill, tucked between the pages, marks the last entry, dated yesterday. A list of odds and ends to get in Hogsmeade next weekend, a Transfiguration spell to look into further, something about the upcoming Quidditch match. 

Sirius is a bit miffed to find he doesn't exactly feature very much. There's barely any mention of him at all, except in a sort of shorthand. Such as, a few days earlier - “visited room of Req. with P”. Sirius remembers exactly what he and Remus had been doing there - in fact he's been vividly replaying that same memory in his head every night since, alone in his bed. He could easily wax lyrical about the experience, and yet - “visited” indeed. 

Then he finds the photograph, loose among the blank pages at the back, and all is forgiven. It’s a picture of himself - Sirius’ top half, shirtless, reclining in the unkempt hidden part of the Potters’ garden. The sun is on his face, he’s laughing and looking very happy, and somehow almost bashful. This was last summer, back when they’d only just told Peter and Prongs about their relationship. Moony had snapped the photo one glorious afternoon, on one of the few occasions when they’d managed to get a couple of hours to themselves. Sirius likes himself in that picture, and he’s chuffed Remus seems to keep it close at hand.

He can faintly hear the portrait hole slamming shut, followed by footsteps on the stairs to their dormitory. This had better be Moony! Closing the book carefully, Sirius shoves it back under the blankets where he found it, pushing it all the way down, out of the way.

“Sirius?”

“In here! And at your service,” he says, throwing back the covers a bit and stretching his limbs. “Did you manage to sort out your blasted third years?”

Remus enters, drops his coat onto a chair and grins appreciatively when he spots Sirius awaiting him, draped across his bed. “Second years, actually, Evelyn Clutterbuck and Leticia Reed. I don’t think I helped much at all.” Moony is suddenly looking surprisingly serious. “Someone’s spiked them with Veritaserum.”

“Oh.” Sirius sits up. He knows how petrified Moony is of that potion. But surely nothing has actually happened, so Sirius focuses on the interesting bit, the gossip. “Anything outrageous? What’ve they let slip? Shocking delinquent behaviour? Plans to destroy the school from within? Clandestine underage love affair, or, wait - they’re in love with McGonagall!”

“No. Well. They did confess to a secret crush, but, er…” Remus shrugs uncomfortably and perches on the edge of his bed, frowning at his shoes as he begins to take them off.

Sirius watches him for a moment, then cracks a broad grin. “It's you, isn't it! That’s why their friends came to fetch you.”

“Well, er,” Remus coughs and fidgets. “Yeah, apparently.”

“Can't say I blame them,” Sirius says smoothly, and shifting up close against Remus’ back he wraps his bare arms around the other boy’s midriff. Moony’s woolly jumper is very soft against his bare chest. “All that time you've been devoting to timorous first and second years? Sorting things out for them, cheering them up, making them laugh… They're only human, after all.”

Remus rolls his eyes, ignoring the compliment. “I’m just a bit worried that they - I never meant to lead them on or anything.”

“Nah, Moony, as if you’d need to. They're young and impressionable, and you're kind, and interesting, and sexy. As well as handsome, obviously.” Sirius underlines this by softly kissing his boyfriend’s neck just below his ear. “I’m sure they couldn't help but fancy you. Bet they're not the only ones. And, I mean, who's not had a Hot Prefect fantasy.”

Remus laughs and shakes his head. “I haven't! Really?! You don’t-”

“Course.” Sirius shrugs, unabashed. “Difference is, I get to act it out.” He grins and turns Remus’ face towards him, pulling him into a passionate kiss. 

“Dunno if I like you thinking of me as a Prefect particularly,” Remus says when they come up for air. “Even a hot one.”

“Well. I do also think of you as a wild reprobate. An insatiable lover. Also, a talented spellwright, and a connoisseur of fine books. A many faceted sort of bloke, you see, all of which I appreciate.” Sirius means every word, but he also knows compliments make Remus squirm. “What did you say to the poor love-struck devils?”

Remus sighs. “Only that I was flattered. But too old for them, obviously, and anyway spoken for.”

“Good.”

“I’ve left that last bit shrouded in mystery by the way, so you won't have to explain yourself to a load of second years later.”

Sirius laughs gleefully. “Who knows, they might have enjoyed the idea. Remember how hot under the collar Pete and Prongs got when Helena Sweeting had that thing with Lauren O’Hearn! Perhaps it works both ways.”

Remus looks doubtful. “I wonder who spiked them, you know. It could be dangerous, if this turns into a new craze…”

“Yeah.” Sirius helpfully pushes up the back of Remus’ shirt and jumper and lifts them over his head. “Difficult enough to come by though, isn't it?” 

“That’s what I mean. How did they even get it in the first place? And why would they waste it on those two? It doesn’t bear thinking about, if anyone were to-”

“Just don’t drink anything you haven’t poured yourself,” Sirius interrupts impatiently. Of course he absolutely understands his friend’s concerns, but surely it’s time for Moony to focus on more urgent matters at hand! Such as the fact Sirius is utterly naked, and currently running his hands across Moony’s chest. He’s savouring the feel of that skin, the contours of lean muscle, his wonderful scent. Tracing the many strange and interesting scars that Remus dislikes so intensely, secret marks that only Sirius gets to see and kiss and touch.

“I know what I would've said.” Sirius sighs against Remus’ neck. He’s already undoing Moony’s belt, fumbling with the buckle, thumbing open the button. “Lupin. That old bastard. Funny, and gorgeous, and fiendishly clever. He's all I want. Makes me hard just thinking about him.” 

He kisses Moony’s shoulder, and finally gets his hand on Remus’ cock. Squeezing and stroking the swollen length, he softly huffs with delight as he spreads a drop of precum across the tip.

Remus gasps a little and drops his head back onto Sirius’ shoulder. “Thinking about us a lot, are you,” he smiles. “Tell me again what you were thinking earlier…”

“In Arithmancy?”

“Yeah…” 

“Right.” Sirius lets go of Remus and makes room for him to climb into bed, and as soon as Moony lies back he is on top of him, pulling down his trousers and pants, undressing Moony completely. “Right. Now.” he says, full of anticipation.

Remus stares up at him with that look Sirius adores - open, and trusting, and hungry, a look of unrestrained desire. “I believe you mentioned me sucking you off,” he reminds them.

“Yes.” Sirius’ mouth descends on Moony’s glorious cock, it’s much too good to resist. He laps at it, sucking and licking and lavishing lots of attention on the tip. “So you were,” he says breathlessly, “something like this.” And he takes as much of the hard shaft into his mouth as he can manage, pumping the base with his hand, and sets to work on him properly.

Sirius enjoys giving head tremendously. At this point, Remus is the only bloke he’s done this - or anything - with, but he can’t get enough of it. And he prides himself in being pretty decent at it, managing to reduce Moony to a desperate, writhing mess in no time at all. 

Tugging at his hair now, Moony is already gasping wildly. “Wait,” he pants, “tell me the next bit. Something about f-fingering you -”

“Ah, yes,” Sirius chuckles, and after a final luscious taste of Remus’ cock he sits up, gently pushing Moony’s legs up and further apart. “Fingering.” He swiftly applies the spell Remus has taught him, one of the very few Sirius manages to cast wandlessly. He kisses Moony’s thighs, his balls, his abdomen, as his probing fingers skim along the perineum and find the puckered hole. “So I was picturing you fingering me,” he picks up the story, “your fingers slipping in and out, scissoring and stretching...” he tries to illustrate this using his own finger, though it is only just sliding into Moony, slowly loosening the muscles of his gorgeous arse. “...until I couldn’t stand it anymore. So then I turned to lean on a desk, bending over a little. And I imagined you coming up behind me. Your hard cock against my crack, demanding -”

Remus lets out a little moan, causing Sirius to pause for an instant.

“Go on,” Moony hisses, “and then? Don’t stop!”

“So I imagined - bracing myself against the desk, and you rubbing your cock against my arse. You wanting to cast Lubricus but I’d already done it, and you'd - slide right in.”

Remus groans at this and Sirius leans in for a quick, sloppy kiss. His own cock is jutting straight up, leaking, aching to be touched, but he’s holding back, not letting Moony’s hands near it.

“And then,” Remus’ voice is rough. “you were picturing me fucking you? Right there in Arithmancy?”

“Yes,” Sirius says breathlessly. “Well, actually just then Professor Vector told me off for not paying attention.”

Remus laughs, and Sirius chuckles, too, kissing him again before lifting up those strong, lean thighs, lining up his desperate cock with Moony’s hole and thrusting forward, pushing in. Remus gasps, his eyes fly shut. It takes some rocking back and forth until Sirius is sheathed in him completely. As they fall into a slowly building rhythm Remus gasps and moans, while Sirius is only just about hanging on to his senses. Fucking Moony is the ultimate thing, comparable really only to having Moony do it to him. The slippery velvety slide into tight, rippling heat. Watching his hard cock ram home, again and again, fucking that beautiful arse, drawing them both into the mindless, irresistible push-and-pull of fulfilment and desire.

Lost in his own delirium, fisting his cock in time with the relentless pace of Sirius’ hips, Remus looks ravishing, torn between ecstasy and desperation. Sirius has learned how to move and angle himself to make Moony howl and curse and cry out, and he is going through the full repertoire for as long as he can manage. Moony is already panting wildly, his eyes screwed shut, and as he chokes back a loud cry and spurts ropes of white cum all over his belly, Sirius loses all control. Pounding faster, deeper, until with a long moan he pulses his release deep inside Moony. 

He pulls out a bit awkwardly, and Remus stretches his legs. They look at each other with glazed eyes, smiling. Sirius collapses next to Moony and they briefly kiss.

“Moony,” Sirius murmurs contentedly. They don’t often have the opportunity for this sort of unrestrained, leisurely sex, and the mind-blowing pleasure of it always fills him with awe.

“Something smells good,” Remus sniffs the air. “Is that mulled cider?”

“Must be. And mince pies. Part of the post-match feast probably. I wonder who’s won?”

Remus huddles against Sirius and kisses him slowly and thoroughly. Then he finds his wand and Scourgifies them both, before jumping out of bed. “We’d better get dressed. They’ll probably be back any minute.”

“Yes…” Sirius sighs, stretching his limbs. “If we must.” He reluctantly sits up, but can’t help eyeing Moony’s delectable body for a moment, before it all disappears into his clothes again.

Pulling on his shirt and jumper, Remus peeks out of the window. There’s a flurry of snowflakes blowing against the glass. “Oh. Looks like it’s Slytherin,” he says.

Sirius huffs. “Blast-ended screwts. I s’ppose anything else would’ve been too good to be true.” He quickly slips into his pants, and his trousers. “Lynton will want to put in loads of extra training. Remind me why I’m on the House team again? Don’t get me wrong, I do love Quidditch more than almost anything, but if we could always be doing this sort of thing instead…” He crosses over to where Moony is putting his socks on, and pulls him into a bear hug.

“Strong words, Black,” Remus grins. 

Sirius shrugs. They kiss once more. Voices are drifting up from the Common Room now, talking and laughing. There’s angry shouting, too, and someone seems to be clapping. Sounds like they’re all coming back at once.

“Oi! Moony! Padfoot! You up there?” James can be heard shouting from the foot of the stairs. 

“Yes,” Remus answers. Sirius goes in search of the rest of his clothes as footsteps come thundering up the steps.

“Slytherin bloody won it,” James calls through the door. “Hufflepuff did make it difficult for them. But in the end - are you two decent?” 

“See for yourself,” Sirius says dryly, rolling his eyes at how remarkably squeamish Prongs still is about Moony and Padfoot’s physical relationship. 

The door opens and James barges in, with a steaming plate of pastries in his hands and a massive grin on his face. “Evans might go to Hogsmeade with me! She’s actually said yes, and that she might! Told you she’d come ‘round eventually!” 

“Brilliant!” Remus congratulates him.

Sirius is less enthusiastic. “Not spiked her with anything, have you? Mind-fogging liquid, perhaps?” 

“Piss off, Padfoot,” James says good-naturedly. “Lynton was asking after you. Said he didn’t see you in the stands, he’s called a meeting about scheduling extra training. The next match is going to be crucial.” He eyes them in turn. “You’ve not just been up here shagging all afternoon, have you? Merlin, at this rate you _will_ go blind one of these days, the way you carry on.”

“The voice of envy.” Sirius feigns haughty disdain. “As a matter of fact, I’ll have you know we’ve mainly been discussing Arithmancy.”

Remus nods earnestly. “We have. In some detail.”

“What,” James looks from one to the other, obviously not believing a word. Then he shrugs dismissively. “Right, whatever. Here, I’ve brought us some mince pies. Pete’s just coming with the cider. She’s said yes! Let’s celebrate!”


End file.
